Tyrande's fingers were a little cold. She had realized the power hidden behind this disaster. She urgently needed good news. She looked back at the sentry, who swallowed and said with some difficulty:

"Orgrim is missing..."

"try to find!"

A cold command came from Tyrande's mouth:

"Even if we open the entire Mount Hyjal, we must find him... Call all the troops and follow me to the front line! Maiev, Maiev?"

The high priest turned back to look for the watchman lady who was following him, but did not see her. She looked at the guards beside her:

"Where is Ms. Maiev?"

The guard immediately replied:

"Ms. Maiev went to the north. She said there were traces of demonic activity there, and Illidan... Illidan also went there."

——————————————————

"Aha! I knew the night elves would not be defeated so easily!"

In the southern part of the Whispering Canyon that leads from Winterspring Valley to Mount Hyjal, the demon king Bain Holler looked at the sky in the distance. He said to the eredar warlock beside him:

"Look at them, these cunning elves quietly pulled up a huge reinforcements. Humans, orcs, tauren, wild boars, trolls, almost all the races on the continent began to unite to help the dark night.

I'm an elf, and I don't know how charming Ms. Tyrande is... Haha, maybe she made some weird promises."

This cunning fear devil stood on a hill covered with falling snow. It looked at the demon army advancing towards Mount Hyjal not far away, and a feeling of joy rose in its heart.

Frankly speaking, old members like Bernholler who have served the Legion for countless years are not afraid of the power of the natives of Azeroth to unite. It has seen such alliances in countless worlds, but it is of no use.

Facing the endless power of the Legion, they will eventually be crushed easily, and that is their only ending.

But Azeroth is different.

Bernholler couldn't help but think of that day on the battlefield in the forest, when Tyrion and the Blood Mistress appeared. At that moment, the cunning Dread Lord really thought he was dead and had never really faced it.

The demon of Lord Dark Blade cannot feel that weird feeling. Looking directly at him is like looking directly at the cold death.

He doesn't even need to lift a finger to take away Bernholler's life, and the most terrifying thing is that if you die in his hands, your soul will not even have the possibility of returning to the twisted void.

Demons are not afraid of simple death, but this kind of annihilation of the spirit body... This is enough to make any demon feel numb.

"It seems that I have to find a way to leave this damn place. Tyrion's power has escaped here, and it is no longer safe here."

While commanding the demon army to enter Mount Hyjal, Bernholler was thinking about his "career". He heard that Cassanatir's work in the Broken Islands was going very smoothly. Maybe it was time to join his old friend.

.

However, at the moment when Bainholler made up his mind, a strange male night elf suddenly appeared on the snow not far away from him. The moment the man appeared, the Dreadlord noticed him.

On this cold day, the temperature in this damn Winter Spring Valley is at least 20 degrees below zero. This is a cold that even demons hate. But the man was naked, with gray cloth wrapped around his hands, and wearing a fur coat.

Wearing embellished military trousers and a pair of black deerskin boots, he looks like an ordinary night elf.

But the most eye-catching thing is the arrogant green magic pattern painted on the man's chest and the dark red cloth covering his eyes.

When Bernholler saw him, the man also saw Bernholler.

A cheerful smile hung on the corner of the man's mouth, as if he smelled the smell of "delicious food":

"Ah...a lone Dread Lord, a high-level demon lord, so nice..."

"It's been ten thousand years, I'm really... really hungry..."
Chapter completed!